


I Thank you for the Promises you Broke

by blarfshnorgull



Series: the embrace that smothers [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Edel is kinda yandere here but it’s fine, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Church Route, Mostly Canon Compliant, Obsessive Behavior, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Unhealthy Relationships, if you came here for fluffy edelvain I’m so sorry, that’s right we’re on silver snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22097398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarfshnorgull/pseuds/blarfshnorgull
Summary: Edelgard overhears a conversation between Sylvain and Byleth. Maybe she should reconsider her opinion on him.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Series: the embrace that smothers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904332
Comments: 21
Kudos: 78
Collections: Enabler's Gift Exchange





	I Thank you for the Promises you Broke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ellisama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellisama/gifts).



> This is for my friend Emma and the prompt was “Edelgard/Sylvain, but seriously” and boy was I intrigued. This came out way less shippy than I intended so I hope that’s ok? Also this is the first time I’ve finished and posted something since I was 16 and honestly the whole process was very intimidating.
> 
> Edit: fixed the spacing

Edelgard very rarely ventured into the town surrounding Garreg Mach. Any business that needed attending to there was carried out by a third party as Edelgard herself had more important work than to visit town. Still, as more convenient as it was to send Hubert to check on preparations in town, Edelgard liked to indulge herself with a visit every now and then.

Some days she longs for the feel of the sun on her skin and the mindless noise of that comes from people just  _ existing _ that it feels beyond unbearable.

She is only lingering in town for that reason alone. Everything else she needed to attend in town was running smoothly and her presence was nothing more than a formality. 

Despite this, Edelgard is still milling about in the town, savoring the sunlight and mindless throng of people that passed her left and right. She is in no rush to return to the monastery; all that awaited her there was more work to be done, work that involved locking herself in her room and writing more letters in preparation for the eventual invasion of the monastery.

She’s being childish, she’s well aware of that fact, but the idea of having to return to her room for the rest of the day was rather unappealing. So unappealing that she finds herself only leisurely walking in the vague direction of the monastery, stopping every now and then to listen to the mindless chatter of townspeople.

It’s a shame what she’s going to have to do to them in the future.

“Y’know if we keep running into each other like this, people will start to talk.”

Edelgard stops at the sound of Sylvain’s voice. It’s too far away to be directed at her, but it is unmistakably the voice of her most recent classmate. She didn’t expect to run into anyone from the monastery, much less him of all people.

She plays his words over again in her mind and grimaces at his shallow attempts at flirting. She can’t even begin to understand how or why women keep falling for it. She begins to wonder if he truly is that good in bed and kills the thought as soon as it forms. She doesn’t want to think about his sex life at all, but admittedly her curiosity is piqued.

She’s never actually seen one of Sylvain’s blunders in person and she’s curious how he’ll handle the situation. More accurately, she’s curious if the woman in question will actually see through Sylvain’s ruse. There’s no response from the other person and Edelgard’s curiosity is waning with every beat of silence; only for Sylvain to speak again.

“Hey don’t get mad! I was only joking,” she hears Sylvain interject to defend himself. Apparently the silence  _ was _ the response.

There’s another beat of silence before she hears a sigh and Sylvain’s voice again. “Ah, forget it. What do you need?”

“I take it that was another of your exploits.”

Edelgard completely freezes at the sound of their professor’s voice. She can’t see either of them from where she’s standing, but Edelgard would know that voice anywhere. Whatever curiosity she was feeling a moment ago amplifies tenfold and she needs to get closer to listen better. And to get a line of sight on them.

Judging from the sound of their voices, they’re just around the corner from her. Edelgard peers around the corner of the building to confirm her theory.

She’s a bit too far away to see their expressions clearly, but she recognizes Sylvain’s vibrantly red hair and settles in her spot. It’s not the most ideal vantage point since Sylvain has his back facing Edelgard; still, she’ll take this vantage point rather than run the risk of looking more suspicious than necessary.

Looking at the two of them, Edelgard couldn’t help but muse on what an odd combination Sylvain and the professor are. A notorious flirt and a stone faced mercenary, she couldn’t even fathom what drew the two of them together. The professor seems entirely indifferent to Sylvain, which even then their professor seems wholly indifferent to most things, meanwhile Sylvain is only interested in her chest.

Edelgard couldn’t even begin to understand what drew Sylvain to join the Black Eagles at all. He’s taken no interest in any of the other students and given his surprising level of competence in combat, there’s nothing Byleth could offer to him specifically. Even if it truly is just for a better opportunity to get close to Byleth, Professor Manuela dresses far more provocatively  _ and _ has a larger chest.

Not the Edelgard had been looking.

He’s certainly talented, Edelgard won’t deny that she appreciates the surprisingly diverse skills he brings to their class, but he lacks dedication. He cares only about the next skirt he can chase and she can’t even begin to imagine what could possibly motivate him otherwise.

He’s a rather unfortunate lost cause.

“Sounds to me like you’re just an asshole,” Edelgard hears the professor inform Sylvain coldly.

Edelgard unconsciously blushes as she realizes that she was so lost in her assessment of Sylvain that she didn’t pay attention to what Sylvain himself said to prompt such a response. It’s rather embarrassing given the fact that she moved closer to listen to their conversation and ended up distracting  _ herself _ of all things.

“Hey, c’mon Professor! I’m just having a bit of fun,” Edelgard can’t help but roll her eyes at Sylvain’s feeble excuse. It’s the same song and dance every time and she gets more tired of it every time she has to hear.

Evidently their professor feels the same. Instead of answering him with a proper response, she crosses her arms in irritation.

Sylvain huffs at her lack of response.

“Besides, I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks of me. I don’t intend to change how I live my life.”

Admittedly, his cold tone of voice surprises Edelgard. She knows that he was always capable of anger on some level, but to hear it over something so trivial as a girl is baffling.

Maybe women really are all that it takes to motivate Sylvain. Or to entice any sort of emotional response from him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sylvain snaps, pulling Edelgard from her thoughts. “I know I’m a good-for-nothing, but I have a crest and that’s all they care about anyways.”

Edelgard feels like the breath was just knocked out of her. To see such a blatant display of cynicism and self-awareness from Sylvain was shocking to say the least. It conflicts with every image, every assessment, that she had of him up until this point.

Sylvain sighs before starting again, “It’s not like it matters, I’m just going to be forced into an arranged marriage anyways.”

Edelgard can’t make heads or tails of him. This is just… too unlike the Sylvain she’s seen up until now. He is by no means a serious person unless…

Has she misjudged him this entire time?

There’s another pause where their professor says nothing in response to Sylvain’s words.

“You never knew you had a crest, did you Professor?”

Edelgard leans in closer.

“No I didn’t.”

Sylvain scoffs. Edelgard wishes more than anything right now that her position would let her see more than just the back of him.

“Lucky,” it’s only a singular word but the bitterness that laces the word is more telling than anything else he could possibly say. Edelgard leans in even closer, desperate to see his expression.

“Nobles test their children from the moment they’re born to see if they have crests and then have their whole lives decided from that,” Sylvain explains to their professor, but with his tone it’s almost as if he’s talking to himself. Like their professor is nothing more than a recipient for his frustration.

There’s another pause and Edelgard curses how distant her vantage point is. She can’t make out their professor’s expression at this distance, not that their professor was particularly expressive to begin with. Even if that weren’t the case, she can’t even see Sylvain’s face at all and it’s killing her.

Sylvain continues, not once letting up on his frigid anger, “People with crests are desired and envied, but no one gives a shit about them as people.”

Edelgard feels her heart skip a beat. He  _ knows. _ He  _ understands. _ He’s seen the same injustice that she has and hates it even though he benefits from it. If  _ Sylvain _ can understand how she feels, then what else has she been wrong about with him?

“But you lived your whole life not knowing you had a crest. No one ever pretended to like you or used you,” she hears Sylvain’s cut through again, far colder than it was before. “I hate people like you, spoiled brats who never had to pay the price for their crests.”

He pauses, very briefly. He’s waiting for the professor to say something but she just stands there in silence.

“Maybe I should collect that debt.”

His resentment and bitterness is seeping into the words, chilling her to the bone. He’s being cruel, deliberately so and it’s cutting Edelgard deeper than most knives could and she’s not even on the receiving end of it.

It’s incredible.

There’s yet another pause as this fails to entice any sort reaction out of their professor.

“Ha! Gotcha!” Sylvain breaks the silence again, all his cruelty melting away as if it never existed in the first place. “You should’ve seen the look on your face. I can’t believe you fell for that!”

He falls back into joking and teasing and so decidedly not whatever  _ that _ was, that Edelgard almost feels dizzy. 

Their professor finally chooses to break her silence then, “Sylvain, do you want to talk about this?” There’s no emotion behind the question, just her regular monotone and Edelgard can’t help the twinge of disappointment.

Sylvain however takes it in stride, “Talk? There’s nothing to talk about Professor! It was just a joke.”

His tone was so forced that even if Edelgard hadn’t been witness to everything she wouldn’t have believed him at all. Yet despite that, the professor makes no move to press him further. She just lets him walk back towards the monastery unhindered while she follows at a distance.

Cold. Cruel. Vengeful. 

Before this moment Edelgard would have never used any of these words to describe Sylvain. But Edelgard knows better now. The Sylvain she saw everyday was a facade and the real Sylvain, the Sylvain she wants, is just lurking beneath the surface.

She needs him, she  _ knows _ she needs him. She has supporters currently, but no one truly understands what she wants. But Sylvain is different. He understands exactly why crests need to be eliminated. No one else has truly understood her reasoning behind her hatred for crests, but Sylvain wouldn’t question her if he knew.

Sylvain might be the only person that can truly understand her and she won’t let him pass her by.

—

Ever since Edelgard overhead Sylvain’s true feelings towards crests she’s been eager to get him alone. However finding a way to confront him privately had proved to be more of an ordeal than she anticipated. 

The problem being that Sylvain was almost never alone and asking him for private time together was… admittedly Edelgard was just too embarrassed to do so given his reputation.

But the golden opportunity to confront Sylvain presented itself when he volunteered himself weeding duty.

The moment Sylvain volunteered himself, Edelgard pounced at the opportunity to work with him. She certainly drew more attention than she would’ve liked, as she earned a strange look from the professor.

And from Hubert. And from Dorothea. And literally everyone else in the class, including Sylvain. But Edelgard could afford to sacrifice a bit of her pride if it meant securing time alone with Sylvain before Caspar or Ferdinand could volunteer.

When she arrives at the patch of grass they are to be weeding, Sylvain is already there. He’s working rather diligently if the cleared area around him is any indication. It’s surprising given his track record, or maybe it’s not. There’s a lot about Sylvain she still doesn’t know.

Edelgard approaches the patch of grass without a word. Sylvain barely spares her a glance as he continues his work. She kneels unnecessarily close to him, earning her a confused glance before he thought better to comment on her choice of proximity.

Edelgard settles into his rhythm begins weeding alongside him. If he notices that she’s following his lead instead of the other way around, he neglects to acknowledge it.

Very little time passes before the silence becomes heavy and awkward.

Sylvain lets out a deep sigh and stops what he’s doing. “Alright, I’ll bite. What do you want?”

He catches Edelgard off guard with how quickly he initiates this conversation with her. She expected that she would be the one that had to break the silence between them, but Sylvain surprises her yet again.

“Want? What makes you assume I want something?” Edelgard asks, letting her careful mask of indifference slip back into place.

Sylvain sits up from his hunched position over the weeds and stretches slightly once he’s righted himself. He’s no longer hunched over, but sitting slouched with his legs crossed. He’s far too casual for someone in the presence of the future emperor, but Edelgard chooses not to comment on this.

“That’s because this,” he says gesturing between the two of them, or more accurately at the lack of distance between them. “Is not how you normally deal with me. Just say what’s on your mind and stop making me worrying that Hubert is around the corner with a knife that has my name on it.”

_ Hubert wouldn’t use a knife on someone like you, poison would be far more efficient, _ Edelgard thinks rather unhelpfully. She can’t imagine that information would reassure Sylvain in any way.

Edelgard relinquishes the facade of actually weeding and gets straight to the point, “I overheard you with the professor the other day.”

Whatever seriousness Sylvain had before melts back into his own mask of playfulness. She can practically  _ hear _ the fake grin spread across his face as he tries to sink back into levity.

“You’ll have to be more specific, our lovely professor talks to me a lot. She just can’t resist,” Sylvain says in that disgustingly perverse way that never fails to embarrass her. As if he knows her inexperience and is practically begging her to say something wrong; like he knows something she doesn’t.

She refuses to let him get under her skin. He knows damn well what she’s talking about and is trying to rile her up enough that she’ll leave without getting any actual answers from him. Edelgard isn’t an idiot, she’s seen him employ this technique before.

She won’t fall for his attempts at power play no matter how hard he tries.

“I was referring to your discussion in town the other day.”

“Oh.  _ That _ ,” he responds, all levity slowly draining out of his voice. There’s a cold anger she’s only heard once before making its way into his tone. She feels  _ excitement, _ of all things, coiling in her stomach. Seeing his true anger again is somehow exhilarating.

She feels sick at the revelation, but she won’t stop. She can’t stop. She wants to peel that mask off more and more until she sees the  _ real _ Sylvain, not that facsimile with nothing more to offer her than honeyed words. She wants to leave him completely exposed before her and watch him embrace his true self for her cause.

“Yes, that.”

“So what, are you here to scold me for being so rude to your precious teacher?” he practically spits the words at her, all venom and taunting with that fake smile still affixed to his face.

It’s very different from the type of cruelty she’s seen Hubert employ, but it’s almost as effective. With some refinement she could—

“There are places where you’d be appreciated for more than just your crest,” Edelgard cuts off her own line of thought with as neutral of a tone as she can manage. It still sounds like it’s veering on the edge of a command, but she can salvage this, “No one would deny your level of skill.”

Her mind is still racing with the possibilities that Sylvain can present her, despite her attempts to reel in her overeagerness. Once she has Sylvain—

“Let’s not kid ourselves Edelgard,” Sylvain groans, halting her thoughts again. His expression turns to something deeply tired and he runs a hand down his face. “You and I both know exactly how the world works. No one would give me a second thought if I didn’t have my crest.”

Something— anger, maybe frustration?— begins to simmer in her chest at his rejection. He has no idea what he’s refusing, if she could just make him see...

“Perhaps this is true in the Kingdom, but this won’t be the case once I am made emperor,” she informs him, unfortunately slipping back into the commanding tone of the future emperor. She’s being far less subtle than she should be, but their professor hasn’t understood Edelgard’s hints yet. A direct approach was more necessary.

Sylvain shoots up straight from his slouched position and reels back as if she slapped him. His face passes through a myriad of emotions, each too fast for Edelgard to catch, before settling on wide-eyed, jaw-dropping confusion.

If this weren’t such a serious matter, she might find his expression amusing.

“Are...are you asking me to join the Empire? You can’t be serious,” Sylvain says in complete bafflement. 

He sounds so… put off by the suggestion that Edelgard almost doubts her plan to recruit him. Almost.

She instead doubles down on her suggestion. She’s already being this obvious, why not go further?

“And why not? You’ve already joined the Black Eagles,” Edelgard is aiming for flippant, something to convince him that this is the obvious answer. “This is just one more step to go somewhere you’ll be appreciated.”

Sylvain has the audacity to  _ laugh _ at this. A full belly, deep laugh that sounds like it’s on the verge of choking him. Edelgard’s indignation from earlier has advanced from a simmer to a full boil. While he’s catching his breath Edelgard readies her rebuttal only to be cut off by Sylvain.

“Wow you really think that huh?” he scoffs at her.

“What—”

He holds up a hand cutting her off, again. The audacity behind this action stuns her, leaving her momentarily tongue tied.

“Believe it or not Edelgard, abandoning my house at the academy for a pretty face is very different from abandoning my country.”

She gapes at him. She can’t help it. The suggestion that her looks are preventing him from hearing her out is so absurd that she can’t stop herself from saying the first thing she thinks of.

“So if I was prettier you’d consider it?” she questions him, incredulous.

Sylvain grins lasciviously as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Edelgard feels the embarrassment flood her as she realizes that this is exactly what he intended to happen. She swore not to fall for his tricks and yet he caught her just like that. He controlled this entire scenario and played her like a damn fiddle.

If anything this only made her want him more.

“Oh I don’t know about that. You’re plenty beautiful, in fact if you’re free later—” 

His words are cloyingly sweet, disgustingly so. Edelgard is already viciously fighting the heat in her cheeks and she can’t bear to listen to him anymore; not without running the risk of falling victim to her own embarrassment. She needs to take control of this situation before anything more ridiculous can happen.

“Stop,” Edelgard commands, ruining whatever sweet nothings Sylvain is spewing at her. Despite what she thought Sylvain would do, he actually does halt his nonsensical ‘flirting’ at her command.

Edelgard doesn’t want to risk losing her opportunity and fires back as quickly, and tactlessly, as possible, “I don’t care about that. I just want to understand how you can defend a country that values you so little.”

“‘Values me so little,’ huh?” Sylvain mummers so quietly that Edelgard has to strain to hear him.

A dark look passes over his face and disappears just as quickly. The anger and embarrassment that has been burning through Edelgard is slowly morphing into a cold pit of dread in her stomach. Everything she’s said or done has earned an unexpectedly negative response from Sylvain and she can’t even begin to understand why he is so  _ resistant _ to her.

“You’re forgetting that I know His Highness better than you do,” Sylvain starts casually, but the genuine anger Edelgard heard once before is starting to bleed into his tone again. It's cold and biting, harsher than any winter. It’s exactly how she remembered it. “I know for a fact that he’s not in favor of the crest system either.”

Edelgard chooses to ignore his statement about Dimitri, it’s irrelevant given that she’ll have him dead in the near future; but she needs to convince Sylvain before that happens. He should be able to understand the world she’s envisioning, he just needs that final push. And if she can’t convince him to join her before she eliminates Faerghus, she’ll lose him forever. She refuses to let him go to waste in Faerghus.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to bide your time hoping that things will get better?”

Sylvain looks incredulous at her words, almost insulted. “And what’s my other option? Treason?” he says in equal parts dismissive and frustrated.

Edelgard won’t let that deter her and she continues pressing onward. He knows what suffering crests can bring, she knows he will understand her, he just needs to see it for himself. “You could fight back, see to it that this corrupt system is finally put to an end.”

Silence settles over them once again. They haven’t budged an inch from where they are seated on the ground and their eyes are practically burning holes into each other. Edelgard’s hands are clenched in her lap, barely restraining herself from scowling; meanwhile Sylvain is not so restrained in his expression.

Sylvain finally breaks his gaze from her, tilting his head back and letting out an exhausted sigh.

“Yeah and I won’t get very far,” he groans, still looking skyward. He lowers his eyes to meet hers again, only to question her. “Why do you even care? It’s my life and I can live it however I want to,” he asks in exasperation.

“You could get support, have others fight with you—” Edelgard tries to continue, but doesn’t get very far.

“And how many are going to die for that?” Sylvain snaps.

Edelgard is caught off guard by him yet again and she’s starting to lose her composure completely. There are only so many times she can handle him sucker punching her with his unexpected behavior.

“Don’t look so surprised, you’re not the only person that overhears private conversations with the professor,” He comments dismissively. His expression turns cold once again before he continues, “I know exactly what you said after Lonato.”

He leans in closing the distance between them. They’re practically breathing the same air and if he moved just a hair closer and their noses would be touching, among other things. “Those must be some lofty ideals if you’re willing to kill innocents over them, can’t say I relate,” he snarls.

She meets him in equal intensity, unflinching. He doesn't understand why such sacrifices are necessary yet, but she’ll change that.

“What if it was a world free from crests, a world where people rise due to their own merits?”

Sylvain blinks slowly and leans away from her. “Crests make people stronger. Even if it's only on merit, people with crests will still be the best option,” he sighs, sounding more exhausted with each word. “Believe me, I’ve thought about this a lot.”

He rises from his seated position on the patch of grass they were supposed to be weeding, brushing the dirt off of him as he stands. They were so absorbed in each other that they accomplished none of their intended work, leaving an unfinished mess behind in all areas outside of their immediate proximity.

“I’m done with this conversation, can’t say I appreciated our little ‘chat,’” Sylvain informs her, jarringly cavalier, as he begins to make his way back to their classroom.

_ That’s… that’s really how this is going to end isn’t it? _ Edelgard thought, watching Sylvain slowly slip from her sights,  _ I tried everything and he refused to understand me… now I’ve lost a valuable asset to the Empire. _

But she hasn’t tried everything yet. She still has one more chance, one more secret that could convince him. The real question is whether he was truly worth divulging such an awful truth? Was Sylvain truly so valuable to her that she should him something that she swore to take to her grave? Could she truly justify revealing herself to anyone, much less him?

She watches as his image recedes further and further from her vision and she—

She acts impulsively.

“I had eight older siblings and yet I became the heir. Do you ever wonder why that is?” Edelgard calls out to Sylvain.

Unlike everything else Sylvain has done today, he does exactly what she expects and he stops dead in his tracks. There’s a tense pause that lasts barely a second before he responds, but to Edelgard it feels like she’s lived through four lifetimes waiting for him.

“I wasn’t aware the Emperor had other children,” he returns, carefully neutral.

He says nothing else nor does he move from his position. He just stands there, waiting for Edelgard to make her next move and she won’t keep him waiting.

She rises from their abandoned task and makes her way towards him, her heels clicking on the stone tiles are the only sound to cut through their silence. She still keeps her distance from him, refusing to give him the space needed for anymore of his power plays, but she’s still close enough to create a sense of intimacy. He’s still turned away from her, most likely to hide his expression, so she keeps her eyes locked on the shoulder in front of her.

She doesn’t particularly want to look at him face to face for this either.

“There were eleven of us,” Edelgard says softly. The weight of the confession feels crushing.

No one remembers that they ever existed. As far as the world was concerned they weren’t even real, and Edelgard is the only that can honor their memory. Not even her own father could remember them anymore.

As much as Edelgard loves her father, she’s knows that he never had strong feelings for most of his children until they were gone. Her father only loves her as much as he does because she had the virtue of being his  _ only _ surviving child. Before his other children died, he couldn’t even remember most of their  _ names, _ much less details about them as individuals. To her father, the loss of her siblings were nothing more than the loss of a conceptual life, but to Edelgard she lost her family.

And Sylvain would be the first person she confesses this to.

“It’s because of your crest isn’t it?”

His voice is surprisingly gentle. It’s unexpectedly touching and Edelgard can’t help the bittersweet smile making its way to her face.

“Yes.”

It’s not a completely true statement, but it’s not entirely a lie either. Of the eleven of them, a vast majority of them didn’t have a crest. Only a pitiful minority of them did, four to be exact and Edelgard was the youngest. Even if they hadn’t died for the Crest of Flames, Edelgard was still ahead of far too many of her siblings in terms of succession.

But Sylvain doesn’t need to know any of these specifics.

There’s a long pause before he manages to say something again. This time his question is so delicate and quiet that if feels like glass.

“Edelgard… what happened to your other siblings?”

“They’re gone.”

She hears a sharp inhale from Sylvain and witnesses his entire body tense up. His hands by his side are clenched into fists so tight his knuckles are whiter than any snow, and any tighter he might draw blood. His mouth shuts with a resounding click, clenching his jaw so intensely that Edelgard is almost afraid he’ll crack his teeth.

He stays like that for only a few seconds before releasing a shaking exhale.

“I… I see,” the words are jagged and heavy, almost like he’s forcing himself to say these words and nothing more. Like something more would be too much for even him to bear.

She doesn’t even know how she would handle anything more from him.

Edelgard approaches him, standing by his side. She keeps her gaze fixed forward, still not feeling strong enough to look him in the eyes after such a confession. A glance to her side confirms that neither is Sylvain as he very deliberately turns his head to the side opposite of her.

“Sylvain, no one can understand what you went through better than I can,” Edelgard starts gently. Even after baring herself to him like this, she needs to make sure he truly understands her. “Think about my offer and when you’re ready, we can discuss it further.”

Edelgard pauses before finally looking at him. He still has his face turned away from her. 

“Perhaps over dinner?” she finally adds tentatively.

That earns her a harsh laugh from Sylvain. Once again, more tense silence settles over them while they wait for a response. Sylvain slowly turns his head and finally looks her in the eye, a small smile gracing his features.

“I’ll think about it.”

—

It had been two weeks since Edelgard revealed herself in the Holy Tomb. Two weeks since she was abandoned by her professor and all of her friends. Two weeks since she finally and truly was left alone.

Tomorrow she’ll make Rhea answer for her crimes. Tomorrow she’ll be forced to face everyone in battle.

Edelgard was looking over Hubert’s finalized strategy for tomorrow when she heard footsteps approach her. She looks up from the plans she’s read almost a thousand times over to come face to face with a foot soldier.

He bows, overly formal, before he relays whatever information he believes to be so important that Edelgard herself needed to be informed about.

“Your Majesty,” he barely announces, his voice shaking from nerves, whether they were from the fear of the impending battle tomorrow or from addressing the emperor, Edelgard had no idea. Probably both. “A prisoner was captured on the edge of camp.”

Edelgard has to refrain from rolling her eyes. A prisoner was hardly worth her time.

“Is that all?”

The soldier squeaks in response and starts to quiver of all things. “Your Majesty I was— well the general said— not that I think the general knows better than you! I was just trying to follow orders!”

Edelgard pinches the bridge of her nose to ward off the impending headache. The soldier means well, but she can’t respond to every little problem that presents itself. Unfortunately if she doesn’t coax an answer out of the soldier he’ll stand here babbling excuses and apologies for who knows how long.

Edelgard offers the soldier a lifeline, “Why was I to be informed about this specific prisoner?”

This snaps the soldier out of his rambling. “Relic!” he shouts abruptly, startling Edelgard.

“I mean— that is to say— he had a Hero’s Relic.”

Odd.

“Have the prisoner brought here, you are dismissed.”

The soldier bows deeply again. “Right away your Majesty!” he declares, eager to leave. Or eager to help. It’s hard to tell with how anxious he is.

Very shortly after he takes his leave, Edelgard hears another set of footsteps approaching her tent and she rights herself for her unexpected guest.

The new soldier that enters her tent immediately forces the prisoner to their knees in front of Edelgard unceremoniously.

Her blood runs cold at the sight before her. She’d recognize that shock of red hair anywhere.

Without even thinking, Edelgard rises from her seat and approaches the prisoner. He’s wearing an academy uniform with cobbled together pieces of armor haphazardly fastened together. He looks exhausted, hunched over on his knees with his face pointing towards the ground.

“Sylvain.”

Edelgard calls out to him quietly but he makes no move to indicate that he hears his name. She approaches him and even once she’s directly in front of him he still makes no move to acknowledge her presence.

She reaches her hand out towards him, slowly extending towards his shoulder. She gently moves her hand, almost caressing him, from his shoulder to his neck and then ultimately towards his face.

He leans into her touch with something bordering on desperation. Edelgard tilts his head back to finally look him in the eye. His brown eyes are swarming with a thousand emotions and Edelgard can’t even begin to discern what he’s thinking.

Sylvain smiles at her and Edelgard feels a hope that she had long since abandoned begin to fill her heart.

“I just wanted to know if we were still on for dinner later,” he teases her. 

He then has the gall to  _ wink _ at her. He’s every bit as cavalier and unabashed as he was in class, completely unafraid of the consequences of his actions. Completely unafraid of her.

She wouldn’t have him any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> edel: you should join the empire  
> sylvain: no that’s dumb  
> edel: but I have trauma  
> sylvain: oh shit me too
> 
> Also fun fact: the working title for this fic was “dude just stop being a pussy and commit treason for me”


End file.
